


Part of the Truth

by SmileWithoutCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Character Death, F/M, Murder, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileWithoutCat/pseuds/SmileWithoutCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can get you out of this mess, and you don't even need to lie. Now," His grey eyes pierced into hers, "how about we having some tea, and you telling me all the details?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part of the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea from _The Devotion of Suspect X _, hope you like it!__

**Side A**

 

No, not again, stepping out of the Floo, Hermione though desperately. She stared at the empty bottles scattered on the floor, then at the sofa, where her husband was now half-lied, his face unshaven and his hand holding another empty bottle. He’s drunk.

“Finally!” He waved the bottle, spitting the last few drops to the carpet, the one her mother gave them after they bought this house. “Do you want to starve me to death?”

“Sorry, I have some last-minute reports to finish.” Put down her handbag, she forced a smile and approached the sofa cautiously, “Are you hungry? I-”

“Will you stopping talking about your job? _The Great Hermione Granger always has so many important reports to finish!_ ” His imitating high-pitched voice was like dagger.

“I’m sorry, Ron. I don’t-”

“Do you feel sorry for me?” He snapped, the bottle smashed onto the wall, and the wallpaper was left with new scratches. “I don’t need your pity!”

“It’s not pity, Ron. You know I don’t mean that. ”Her voice was trembling, “Please don’t be angry. Please. I’ll cook now and you’ll feel better after dinner.”

“I don’t want your bloody dinner!” He now stood in front of her, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Now I only want Firewhisky!”

“But Ron, you drink too much.” Though she could see what this would led to, she still tried to reason with him. “You shouldn’t drink anymore. It will harm your health. And tomorrow we are visiting Harry and Ginny. And we must take Rose to buy her school books and robes and her first wand. And-“

She didn’t try to dodge when Ron raised his right hand. It slapped on her left cheek and she fell down. She didn’t protest when Ron kicked her knees. Magic could heal her later. Tears washed down her face silently. She curled up on the floor and indulged herself in those good old memories.

_Her life had been wonderful. She had a loving husband who had been her best friend since they were eleven. Her job in Ministry of Magic was busy but fulfilling. And when Rose was born, she believed she had the perfect life_ _as_ _she planned._

_It was a match between Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies. Rose was eight back then. Ron was hit by a Bludger on the back. The wound was so severe even the best healer in St. Mongo couldn’t heal him completely. After a month, he could walk normally, but would never be able to mount a broom again. His Quidditch career came to a sudden end, so did Hermione’s happy life._

_Ron quitted the job in George’s shop three months later, and spent a lot of time at home doing nothing_ _but_ _drinking. Sometime_ _s_ _Hermione_ _'s_ _colleagues_ _talked_ _about seeing_ _someone_ _resembled_ _Ron in some filthy pubs in Knockturn Alley, and she_ _would told them_ _they must mistook someone else._

_Ron first beat her one years ago. He was drunk and she was late home, just_ _as_ _today. He apologized when he was sober, and told her he loved her and he never wanted to hurt her. For the next whole month he didn’t drink. He even read the job ads on Daily Prophet. Then after several failed interviews, he came_ _home with_ _half a bottle of Firewhisky. Everything fell back to beginning._ _He_ _beat her again, and cried his apology later._

_She didn’t tell anyone, not even Harry._

“Mummy, are you home?” Distantly, she heard her daughter’s voice and panicked. Rose shouldn’t be at home. She was supposed to be with James in Harry’s house. When did she come back? She couldn’t see this! She might have seen them fighting, but not this! “Rose, back to you room!”   She choked out.

Butit was too late. She saw Rose stood on the other side, her hands on her mouth and her eyes horrified. Seconds later the fear was replaced by anger. “Dad, what are you doing? Let go of mum!" Her little daughter rushed to her, kicking and dragging with her small feet and hands and trying to rescue her. She wanted to tell Rose it was okay and it wasn’t like what she saw. Her heart sank when Ron shook her off, his anger now aiming at his own daughter.

“Let me teach you how to respect your father, you ungrateful brat!” Ron raised his hand and Hermione screamed.

**He** **would beat Rose like he beat her.** **He would slap her and hit her hard.**

Hermione struggled to stand up, took out her wand and pointed it at her husband. “ _Impedimenta_!”

The magic blast Ron away, his arms threw over his head. She saw his surprised face and his slightly open mouth. His whole body was a rag doll dragged by invisible power. With a terrifying sound, his head hit the wall first, and his other body parts followed. He fell to the floor, adding a path of ominous red to the wallpaper. He lied there with the scatter glass, his left arm bent into an odd angle.

“Ron!” She ran to him and kneeled beside the motionless body. What happened? She just wanted to protect Rose. It’s only a simple _Impedimenta_. It wouldn’t do much damage. Shaking, her finger touched his neck. Why didn’t she feel his pulses? She moved her finger. Where was his heartbeat? And the blood. There was blood in his hair, so garish compared with his red hair.

Why didn’t he move? Shouldn’t he be mad at her? Is he…? No, don’t say that word. He couldn’t be…. She didn’t…him.

Magic! How could she forget magic? She’s a witch. She would fix him easily with magic. " _Reparo_!" Nothing happened, so she wave her wand again. " _Reparo_!" Still nothing. What’s wrong? Oh, silly her. You could only cast it on an object, she scolded herself. Concentrate. She must cast the right spell and Ron would be fine. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, once, twice-

The fireplace roared to life. Draco Malfoy- his head appeared in the green fire.

“Granger, I need your report about last case NOW. The one about magical creature smuggling…. Oh.”He disappeared, and moments later, a whole Draco Malfoy, still wearing his working robe, stepped out.

“It seems I get into the crime scene.” His voice was casual, like he was talking about today's weather.

“It’s NOT! There’s no crime scene!” She sounded too suspicious even to herself, like someone who had just killed her husband. NO! Not that word. She didn’t…anyone. Ron was only hit hard on the head. He needed time to recover. He would regain his consciousness any moment. Or she could call for the healer. No, no healers. She would heal him herself. Yes, that’s right. That’s what she was doing before Malfoy interrupted her. "It-"

Malfoy spoke in an annoyingly condescending tone while dusting his robe, "You can save your breath if you want to say he tripped over his legs or some rubbish like that, because according to my view, it’s a completely different story.You daughter looks like she has attended Nagini’s feast.”

She twisted around so quick that it hurt. There she was. Her daughter, her only happiness and joy, her innocent Rose, had seen EVERYTHING.Her face was white as sheet and her wide-open eyes was filled with hollowness. “Rose,” she called out, but didn’t know what to say next. “Rose.” She called again. Rose’s eyes turned to her, but they were still unfocused.What should she say? “Go back to your room, okay?” She pleaded, and Rose complied soundlessly. She walked to the stairs like a puppet and soon disappeared from Hermione’s sight.

“Such an obedient girl, just like her mother, or like everyone believes her to be.” The lazy drawl drawn Hermione’s attention back to the intruder. Intentionally, she raised the wand that still clenched in her fist. Her arm was shaking, and she couldn’t even hold it steady enough to point it to his face. “Go away, please.” That was her voice? Did she just beg him?

“Or what? You will kill me like you kill the weasel? ”Malfoy said mockingly.

Hermione collapsed. She let her wand slip from her hand and the gravity brought her down. “It’s an accident! I didn’t mean it! The spell, it shouldn’t be so powerful! I just… I just want to protect Rose!” She sobbed into the carpet, and her whole body shook violently. Rose. Rose had been here. Rose had witnessed EVERYTHING. What kind of mother she is?

“I…I did it. Oh, I killed…killed Ron.” Then she told him everything in her sobbing and broken sentences.

Finally, Hermione though she could collect herself. “Malfoy, I’ll get you the report and you can leave.”

“And then? What are you going to do?”

“I’m calling the Aurors. Do you want to help?” She could see the headline of Daily Prophet, DRACO MALFOY CAUGHT HERMIONE GRANGER-WEASLEY MURDERING RON WEASLEY! How ironic. Skeeter would be thrilled. But she was doing the right thing. Maybe one day Rose could look into her eyes again, and it didn’t matter she would be in Azkaban that day. She laughed hysterically, and she didn’t know her tears were from sadness or madness.

Malfoy said nothing until she stopped laughing. “I think you said it’s an accident.” His voice was flat, revealing no emotion. Wasn’t he supposed to be ecstatic?

“It is an accident, but still, I did kill Ron. It’s all my fault.” She felt much calmer after the outburst, which was quite shocking.

“Accident or not, you will be sent to Azkaban. A life sentence, probably. Wizengamot is merciless when a witch kills her husband.” He cast aglance to Ron, his expression unreadable.

“I know. I will take my punishment.” She knew the inequality in wizarding society very well. She had been trying to repealing the certain law since she realized its existence.

“And you daughter?” He tapped his palm with his wand.

“Molly will take care of her. She will be fine.” At least she hoped so. Her heart broke with the thought of leaving her little girl, but she had to do the right thing. “I have no choice, Malfoy. I killed her father and I will pay for it.”

“Fine? You think so?” He sounded bitter. “Be fine with other kids calling her the one whose mother murdered her husband or be fine with growing up without her mother?”

She stared at him, her tears uncontrollable again. “Now I’m offering you another option.” He pulled her up and steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. “I can get you out of this mess, and you don’t even need to lie. Now,” His grey eyes pierced into hers, “how about we having some tea, and you telling me all the details?”

 

Hermione flooed Harry in the morning. He greeted her in his pajama, his eyes stilled misted by sleep. “What was wrong, Hermione? It’s only eight.”

“Ron wasn’t home last night.” She heard herself saying.

“Ron? You’re sure he didn’t go to some pub?” He fought back a yawn.

“I’m worried. I just….” Don’t lie. Tell part of the truth, Malfoy’s voice whispered in her ears.

“Okay, I understand. If he didn’t come home at noon, we’ll go and find him. Shall we meet at Leaky Cauldron?”

“Thank you, Harry.” She tried to ignore the pity in his eyes.

Harry gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We may find him asleep in Leaky Cauldron, or kicked out by bartender.”

Harry has always been a good friend. He was always helpful and supportive and reliable. Hermione couldn’t help wondering whether things might be different if she had ended up with him. It’s not time for the nonsense, she told herself and disconnected the floo.

 

They didn’t find Ron- or his body- in Leaky Cauldron or any other pubs in Diagon Alley, thankfully. A Mr. Smith mentioned he saw a redhead last night in Orc Tail, a pub in Knockturn Alley, so Harry decided they should try their luck there.

 

“Yes, I remember that guy.” Mr. Brandon, the owner of Orc Tail, was a little man with funny-look mustache. He didn’t looked at them, but was examining the wines carefully. “He almost got himself into a fight with Sam. He is my bartender. Not wise, I say. No one want to mess with Sam. Tough guy, you know, fist big as a bowl. Knock you out before you could say ‘ _Stupefy_ ’. That’s why I hire him. I mean, it’s not the safest place in wizarding England. Like the Aurors say, _Constant Vengeance_. Last month I-”

“I hate to interrupt you, Mr. Brandon, but could you tell me the reason of their fight, Mr. Brandon?” He was friendly enough, but he talked too much.

“No fight, young lady, people don’t fight in my pub.” He put down the bottle, turned around to face them seriously. “People come here to drink, to play cards, to talk about Quidditch or other nonsense, or to find themselves a little adventure, if you lady know what I mean. They don’t fight. Sam simply throw him out. He just grabbed his collar, lifted him off the group, walked to the door, open it, and throw him out. Simple and harmless. ”

Hermione breathed in. “I’m sorry, I mean no offence. Could you tell me the reason of their _interaction_?”

“Oh, there’s a girl. Of course, there’s always a girl. Sarah, she worked here. Blonde hair, long legs. Sam fancied her for his whole life. Never asked her out, though. Too shy. He blushed every time she talked to him! Can you imagine? Anyway, the redhead said something to Sarah and put his hand on her arse several times, and tried to kiss her. I think Sally cried out, and Sam got pissed off. He grabbed the man’s collar, lifted-”

“Can we talked to Sam?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, sir, you can’t. Sam didn’t come today. Maybe still in his bed. Lazy butts, these young people. But Sarah’s here. Sarah! Sarah! Come here!” He shouted.

A girl, no more than twenty, with blonde hair, emerged. “What, Mr. Brandon? I’m working!”

“There’s a Mr. Potter and Mrs. Weasley want to ask you about the man last night.”

“Hello, Sarah.” Harry greeted.

“ _The Potter_ and _the Weasley_? Are you kidding me? Harry Potter and Hermione Granger-Weasley?” She seemed shocked, then realization came to her. “Oh- the one I slapped last night was _Ron Weasley_?”

“You slapped him?” Harry asked unbelievably.

“Oh, sorry, I… I was so angry, Mr. Potter. He tried to kiss me. It’s disgusting. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I believe he deserved it. I hope he didn’t harm you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. So it’s true, what Daily Prophet says. One third of the golden trio is now a total wreck. I know it must be true, or else it won’t be printed. But still….”

“They are not all true. Ron is just…a little out of himself these days.” You knew they’re true. A voice said in her mind.

“No matter what you say, Hermione.” Harry stared at her, and then turned to the barmaid. “Sarah, do you know where did the man go after he got out of the pub?”

“Sorry, sir, don’t know. Why don’t you ask Sam? He threw him out.” She looked proud.

“Mr. Brandon said he didn’t come to work.” Mr. Brandon nodded, murmuring “lazy” and “people these days”.

“That’s weird. He’s usually the first one to be here. But anyway, I don’t’ know any more.”

“Thank you, Sarah. Thank you, Mr. Brandon. We just leave now.” She knew they wouldn’t find Ron today’.

“You’re sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No, thanks.” Hermione and Harry said together.

 

Hermione went home alone after Harry promised he would contact the Aurors tomorrow morning, her mind troubled by the new information. Though Malfoy wouldn’t mention his plan to her, she knew the man in Orc Tail must be him. But why? Why did Malfoy polyjuice himself as Ron, go public and harass a barmaid? To give her alibi? But the Aurors could knew the accurate time of death when the body was found. And the bartender, Sam. Did Malfoy do anything to him?

They were in the same boat. She reminded herself. She had made a deal with the Devil. There was no point of return.

She opened the door and Rose was reading on sofa. Everything was normal.

“Mummy is home, sweet heart.”

 

Two days later, Harry came to her door. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m really sorry. Is Rose home?”

Something had happened, she knew it. “She’s upstairs.”

Harry cast a _Muffliato_. “We…we found Ron’s body in Knockturn Alley.”

That’s it. That’s the end. Or the beginning. Ron was really dead now.

“I know it’s hard, but you must be strong. You still have Rose, and us.”

If only Harry knew…

“Tell me what happened.” Her voice was trembling.

“You should sit down first.” He didn’t looked at her, and Hermione was glad.

“I don’t know what to say, Hermione.” After they settled on the nearest sofa, Harry said. “Someone found the bartender of Orc Tail yesterday, unconscious in an alley not far from his work place. He was sent to Saint Mongo, and the Healer found out he was _Obiliviated_.”He paused. “We searched the alley, and… we found Ron.” Harry sounded in pain, but he continued. “The Healer retrieved Sam’s memory, and he’s the one who killed Ron, in self-defense. Ron ambushed him. He’s angry about what happen earlier. He even tried to use Unforgivable…. We couldn’t charge him. He was so frightened that he try to _Obiliviate_ himself and exploded his wand. I went through Sam’s memory, and used Veritaserum on him. I can’t-” He stopped mid-sentence, “I’m sorry, Hermione. If I had helped Ron… if I talked to him more…. ”

“Please, Harry, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.” It’s all my fault, she wanted to tell him. It made her sadder that even Harry wasn’t suspicious of _Ron’s_ behaviour.

They sat that, staring at their cold cup of tea, and speaking nothing. She should feel relieved. No one found out the truth. She could stay with her daughter. But why did she want to cry though her eyes were dry? Why did she want to tell Harry everything, the fight, the beating, the accident, and Malfoy’s offer?

“The Auror office wants you to identify Ron’s body.” When she thought she could hold back no more, Harry broke the silence. “It’s just some documents. If you don’t want-”

“I’ll go.” She would see him one last time. It’s her responsibility.

“Okay. But I’m going with you.”

 

An hour after Harry left, Malfoy _Apparated_ into her kitchen without invitation.

“So I take that you’ve got the news.” He sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. “And don’t you have any questions?” He sipped the cold tea and grimaced.

“You’re the one in Orc Tail that night, weren’t you? You harassed the barmaid and got in a fight with the bartender on purpose, didn’t you? You ambushed him, modified his memory and then _Obliviated_ him _,_ so the healer wouldn’t be able to retrieve the second layer of memory.”

“Ten points to Gryffindor Know-It-All.” He smirked, and Hermione felt her fury burning. “How could you? You dragged an innocent people into this! You may ruin his life!”

“Relax, Granger. The guy won’t be charged. He got his memory back- most of it. No permanent harm. And he did punch hard.”

“You deserved it! You made an innocent person believe he’s killed someone! You don’t know how horrible it feels!”

“Believe me, I know.” His said darkly. “But if you want, I can always tell them the truth. And you can meet you daughter once a year in Azkaban.”

Her voice stuck in her throat. She’s a hypocrite. How could she blame Malfoy when she’s the one who killed?

Malfoy put down the cup and stood up, daring her to response. She felt nauseous. “Why?” Hermione asked finally. “Why do you help me? Why not send me to Azkaban?”

“Well, Granger,” he stared into her eyes, “do you know I fancied you once, when we were in Hogwarts?” Then he _Disapparated_ with a “POP”.

 

 

**Side B**

They were not even friends. He never asked why she wore gloves in warm summer days, or why her eyes were red like she had cried herself into sleep. He has been waiting and he had patience, but deep down, he knew he was just too too coward to take any real actions in the past years.When he saw Ron Weasley motionless on the floor, he realized the chance had come. He made a plan.

Persuading Granger was much easier than he thought, but who could blame her? She’s desperate. The most difficult part was to make her agree to _Obliviate_ her daughter, but that had been done.

He looked into the mirror. The disgusting red hair was turning blonde, the freckles were disappearing and his pale skin was returning.

“W-What--” A muffed voice sounded very much like Ron Weasley broke the silence of Malfoy Manor's dungeon.

“ _Stupefy._ ” He cut it off without turning back. The effect of Polyjuice had faded. Now it’s the final part. “You will die soon, and it’s for real this time.” He said to the unconscious someone.

 

_In Granger’s house, his heart almost stopped when he saw Weasley’s finger move._ _So_ _he's_ _in a coma,_ _not dead,_ _and might gain his consciousness any moment. Granger didn’t kill him, but she’s too panicked to realize it. It could have ruined everything_ _, but_ _fortunately_ _Granger didn’t notice anything, and a non-verbal Stunner easily solved the problem. He had a better plan._

 

He _Apparated_ them both to the dark alley. Soon the bartender would appear- he knew it from the big-mouth barmaid, and a simple _Imperio_ could help him finish his plan. The body would be found in a few days, and the death time was Granger’s best alibi, in case anyone suspect her.But who would?

He's the only one who knew she killed Ron Weasley. He's also the only one who knew she didn't. They were bound, he smirked inwardly, by death and crime.

Someone was approaching. Draco Malfoy raised his wand.

_"_ _Imperio._ _"_


End file.
